


Pieces

by frooley



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Car Accident, Chris dies, F/F, F/M, M/M, Psychosis, Schizophrenia, Stockholm Syndrome, depression (mentioned), sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2018-10-28 23:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10841565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frooley/pseuds/frooley
Summary: "You just cant save him"





	1. PROLOGUE

_"What are we doing here, man? It's 2003! We should be living out loud!" Michael shouted, patting the blond's shoulder._

_"You can, my mom will beat me if I don't pass this test." Chris backfired, scratching his head. "Go see Josh or something, okay? I'll try to get out here."_

_The brunet agrees, and stands up._

_"We'll be at Schulman's, 'kay?" He says, stepping out of the blond's room._

_"Kay." Chris replies, twirling a pencil as the door shuts._

_He was determined, but not as determined. He studied about half of what was supposed to before his mother came in, telling him Josh called saying he needed a ride home._

_He only suspected that the brunet was drunk, as well as Michael, if he was with him that is. He sighed and got ready to go._

_As he reached Schulman's, he could see his two friends stumbling around as they tried to stand still, giggles erupting them as they watch another._

_Chris shakes his head and pulls into the parking lot, parking next to the two drunks._  
_They clamber in, Josh in front and Michael messily in back._

_"Thanks C-chrisy." Michael says with a hiccup, finally seating himself._

_Josh just smiles, a off twinkle sparking in his eyes._

_"No problemo, bud. Y'all can just stay at my place tonight." The blond tells them as he backs out of the bar's parking lot._

_They drive in a comfortable silence, maybe too comfortable. Chris' mind whirled with static and minor thoughts, his eyes drooped, so much he couldn't see Josh's hand move, or grab the steeringwheel, but he did see the bright lights of the other car in front of him._

\---------------

The hospital buzzed and radiated with busy. Josh sat beside Chris' bed with bandages around his head and hand, but other than that, he was fine. As well as michael, who was being treated at the moment. Chris, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. At inpact, the bolts on the blond's seat sheered and he was sent forward into the steering wheel, breaking a couple of his ribs. His seatbelt broke, oddly, and he was sent out the window, along with Josh, but suffered more damage.

The doctor said it could've been that the brunet had consumed such an immense amount of alcohol that it saved his life, his body basically rubber when it flew out the window.

Chris, being the designated driver, had none, which didn't save him the registration of head damage and other bodily harm.

Josh's mind went over all the doctor said, especially Chris' condition.

**_4 broken ribs_ **

**_Extreme brain brusing_ **

**_Fractured elbow and shoulder bones_ **

**_3 inch slices in the thighs, most likely due to glass_ **

**_Unconscious; most likely won't wake up for a week_ **

It was his fault.

Right?

 


	2. N E A T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't figure out a last name for Chris so i put a pretty generic one whoops

Sun breached through the windows, painting the neatly placed room with warm.

Josh sat, between fantasy and reality, on his neatly made bed with sheets of blues and greens. He didn't dare move, or speak. He had an appointment with his therapist in an hour, but he didn't have the energy to go. He already missed four sessions.

He didn't understand why no one else was going to thearpy, Chris was their friend, too, right?

The thought of blond not only brought tears, but memories. Memories of his laugh and smile, his voice, his whole being.

Quickly cooling clear tears slid down the brunet's cheeks. He wasn't over it.

He stood and walked to the window, which was closed and painted shut for reasons.

He wasn't _depressed_ , was he?

Maybe.

There was more to what he felt, though.

He ran a calloused finger over the wooden frame of the window, watching white flakes of paint fall off.

Anger, more adrenaline that anything, rushed through him. His fist involuntarily clentched, and before he could think about what was happening, his hand was through the glass, cut in about fifteen different places. He gathered himself and pulled his hand to his body, picking off glass that littered his skin.

_Why was he like this?_

\---------------

"Higher dosage? He's already taking almost 200 mg of it. He's told many times that he threw up after taking it, he can't take them anymore." Melinda spoke, looking at the papers in her hands.

"Maybe you're diagnosing him wrong."

"Listen, I'm a professional, I know what I'm doing." Dr. Hill bites. "What would you know about patients like your son."

"That they shouldn't be going to you for help." Melinda spits, she stands and leaves to fetch her son.

Josh sits quietly, patiently waiting. He didn't like being pumped with pills, but they were supposed to help him right?

His head turns to where he hears heels clicking on the laminated flooring.

"Hey Joshie, it's time to go." Melinda speaks as she reaches her son, helping off the bench.

She watches as he cradles his bandaged hand, eyes half-lidded.

_I'm sorry._

\---------------

Every now and then, after sessions, Melinda brings Josh to Chris' grave. Today was one of those odd days.

She walks him to the tomb, and just like him, re-reads the printed words on the stone;

_Chris Johnston_  
_A loved friend, and son._  
_Forever will you be in our hearts._

Stereotypical, she thought.

Her son kneeled beside the grave, speaking softly. Unknown words.

He then lays beside it, adjusting as if the blond was there.

"I'm sorry," Josh says, clear as day. Melinda hasn't heard him speak in a long time.

"It's my fault," he says. "I could've saved you, I still can." He reaches a hand out to touch the grass that meets the stone tomb.

"If I do, please don't be mad. You'd always get upset if I did something stupid." He laughs, short but audible.

"No, Chris." He then shouts. "I have to SAVE you."

Melinda stared in awe, could Josh see the blond boy, and talk to him?

He watches her son stand, so quickly that he might've hurt himself.

He looked angry, an emotion that's stuck with him recently.

"I WILL SAVE YOU."


	3. S W E E T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I apologize for not updating. I just got access to this story and wow its not what I remembered. Ill try to update it more! 
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you like

The rooms light flickered, very stereotypical, he smirked as he poked the needle through flesh. The noise of blood and other fluids oozing filled the room.

He promised he would save him.

___________

Sam sat patiently on the burgundy sofa, it was hard and barely cushioned but she didn't mind. She was seeing Josh again.

Melinda walked out to greet her, stress wrinkled face tight with a smile.

"I'm glad you could come, Samantha." she admitted honestly. "Josh hasn't been himself since Chris', um, untimeliness. Beth and Hannah are with him as well." 

Sam smiled small in response, not trusting her voice just yet.

She followed the older woman into the room, where the Washington siblings snapped up to look at her.

"Sam!" they all shouted.

Beth was the first to pull her into a hug, holding her tight. Hannah did the same, nearly crying. 

Josh was the most hesitant, picking at his still bandaged hand and avoiding Sam's eyes.

"Josh?" 

"Sam."

He raised his hand instead, smiling sheepishly.

Sam took it with no hesitation, not wanting to scare the brunet.

"I want to show you someone." Josh then offers, voice small.

Melinda notices this, stepping in immediately. 

"Josh, you can't show people that." she quietly hissed, her son flinching. He nodded none the less, pulling his hand from Sam.

"I don't mind, Mrs. Washington."

"Oh hon, I assure you that you don't want to see him."

"Him?"

"Chris." Josh corrects under his breath, eyes darting to the ground.

Sam looks at him in blasphemy for a moment, before coming to a conclusion.

"Show me."

___________

The body was moving, god damnit. 

Chris' body.

Josh watched with awe and pride as the being blinked and looked around, before shouting out and gargling on what seem like its own blood.

Josh frowned.

"Chris, hey, cochise." He spoke soft, despite the grip he had on 'Chris'' jaw was crushing.

A tube was then stuck down its throat, sucking the blood out of it. The body breathed, actually breathed, and calmed, sitting up and looking around again with the tube sticking out of its mouth.

"This is Chris, Sam." Josh smiled, and suddenly Sam felt off. She didn't belong here, she should have stayed home and watched that stupid movie with her mom. She should have.

Instead, she was staring at a reincarnation of her dead friend.

Oh god.


End file.
